Start over

It was ready. I had been looking at the painting for a long time, trying to decide whether I really liked the result. At some moments the painting seemed too abstract, and at others I thought I had overdone it. What was it really?

"Helena?"

I gave a startled scream and looked at the door, seeing Liam looking at me confused.

"I didn't hear you come in". I say, smiling gracelessly.

"You..." He starts to speak pointing to something.

I turn around and see that I have dropped the painting on the floor.

"Damn it!" I grumble angrily, picking up the painting from the floor.

A good part of the paint had been left on the floor and the painting, which was already not so good, had become a complete disaster.

"Now it's official garbage". I say it jokingly, but Liam looks at me seriously.

"Do you paint?" He asks, stepping closer and looking at my painting materials, looking somewhat impressed.

"I used to paint". Answering with a smile. "I was trying to remember the old days, but it didn't work out so well". I say, smiling, as I put the painting back in place.

He approaches me and begins to look at the painting, as I do.

"Is it a flower?" He asks looking confused and I laugh.

"At first it was, but then I thought that some of the features reminded me of a butterfly, so I ended up with that thought. In the end, I'm as confused as you are". I say, laughing, and he finally laughs.

"I really like the colors, never any painting like this". Speaks and I crack a smile.

"I used to make my own paints". I remember with a smile. "Dad would drive for hours to the next town over, an elderly couple sold my favorite pigments, and they made the painting materials themselves". I say, showing them a clean brush, which had my name on it and some of my favorite colors. "I like very bright colors".

"Did you stop painting?" He asks, looking at me curiously, and I bow my head. "Why?"

"I don't know". I answered sincerely, looking at the canvas. "I always had more important things to do and there was never enough time for... For me". I speak and sigh, realizing this fact now.

"I understand". Says looking at me with a small smile.

He picks up a damp sheet from beside my brushes and walks over to me, surprising me by wiping my face.

"There isn't a part of your body that isn't covered in paint". Speaks with a smile.

"I'm sorry, I must look like a rag". I snap, realizing this only at the moment.

"No, you don't". Liam speaks with a smile, while still wiping my face.

We stay there for a while, but slowly his movements stop and soon our gazes are connected. It was impossible to look away, there was something in their eyes that made them unique.

He put his hand on my face and began to caress it. I smiled as I felt his warm touch, which was undoubtedly one of the things I loved most about him. 'Love?' I wondered to myself. I pull away almost immediately as I realize my misunderstanding and he looks at me confused.

I look at the bedroom window and see that it was already dark, indicating that it was already dark. The day was over and I had not noticed, giving me a great excuse.

"I lost track of time". I talk forcing a smile. "I'm going to go to the kitchen, see if they need my help there". I'm going to the kitchen, see if they need my help there.

As I walk down the stairs, I realize that I have just escaped from my own room. I nod, still confused by my last thought. I don't need to go into the kitchen to know that dinner was already ready, since the smell was already in the room.

"Maria". I call the housekeeper.

"Yes". She soon appears, with her usual gentle smile.

-"If it's not too much trouble I'd like dinner to be brought up to my room". Speaks, forcing a smile.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" He asks confused.

"Yes, I'm fine. A little tired, actually. I'd like to take a shower, eat and rest". Answering and she nods.

I thank her and go back upstairs. I make sure Liam is no longer in my room and only then do I enter, locking the door. I turn on some music, loud enough to disturb my thoughts that seemed to want to torment me even more.

I try to hum, but the questions keep playing with me. After all, I had only made one mistake, right? I just didn't think about it before and ended up talking about love. It doesn't mean that it is or that there is any possibility, of it being or of it happening.

No, no. That sounded frightening to me. I was in a delicate situation where I had teamed up with my former boss to get revenge on my ex-husband. This situation was already critical enough on its own, I couldn't invent an additional problem on top of it.

There were no reasons, motives or anything that motivated that kind of feeling. Not here and not now. Fear of love? It was something too basic to define my feelings, I felt dread. What did love bring me? No house, no job, and a damn amount of money that was not enough for anything.

Nothing. That's exactly what love had brought me, nothing. I mean, psychological problems, anxiety, insecurities and fears, it had given me plenty. The good times I had experienced simply vanished from my mind and I could only remember the bad things.

I was not comparing the two of them, I would never do that. That would be unfair to the person who had saved me and helped me like no one else had. But I didn't feel ready. I was a woman in her late thirties and completely exhausted.

I couldn't believe that I was ready to start over and be fixed again. I was starting to remake my life, getting back to prioritizing myself. I was afraid that once again I would put myself aside and then everything would repeat itself.

I had had too many adventures. I've had too much to drink, too many tears, too much fear, and now I just want to start over. Alone.